


wholes

by miladys-winter (lykxxn)



Series: here at least we shall be free [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Gen, Mentions of Intercision, Similarities Between a Protagonist and an Antagonist, Slash if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lykxxn/pseuds/miladys-winter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Milady had to become her own whole, because someone took half of herself away.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>D'Artagnan never even had to try, because it was impossible to take half of himself without taking all of it. <i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	wholes

Milady could scarcely remember a time when she had a dæmon. She had grown so accustomed to being empty; to being nothing. She didn't mind the surprise, the disgust, the fright. She didn't mind others who had dæmons of their own; they were lucky; she needn't remind them that. It was people like _d'Artagnan_ that she despised. Why should he be born with no dæmon, yet not be affected by the way intercision could destroy a severed human being? He walked around as if he _had_ a soul somewhere else outside of a dæmon.

She knew what he wanted. He wanted to be like everyone else - to have, to hold; to be shadowed by his own dæmon, like Milady once was. Several times, she knew, he had wanted so desperately to reach out for Aramis's; for Porthos's; for Athos's, only being stopped rather abruptly by some sort of reminder in his mind: the taboo.

She knew the way he felt. She _knew_ how it felt to desire your own dæmon.

After all, before she was Milady de Winter, she was Anne de Breuil. And Anne de Breuil had a fox-dæmon. Kayid had the silkiest fur; the brightest, deepest eyes: he was, in short, the perfect companion, the perfect friend, and the perfect sidekick. On dark, cold nights when the frost hung from the windows in sharp icicles, she would sit by the fire, and he on her feet, keeping each other warm; and when she was young and afraid, he would curl up against her breast and despite the fears wracking through her body, he swore to her - and she to herself - that nothing would ever get through him to her. Anne and Kayid were two halves of a whole, and the day Athos had her severed was the day she lost herself.

Milady had to become her own whole, because someone took half of herself away.

D'Artagnan never even had to try, because it was impossible to take half of himself without taking all of it.

And she hated him for it.

* * *

It was hard to pretend that she felt no different without Kayid than she did with him.

It was hard to pretend that she hadn't woken at two in the morning, desperately groping around in the dark for a dæmon that wasn't there.

It was hard to pretend that she didn't feel empty; a shell of her former self - quite literally, perhaps.

It was hard to pretend that she wasn't alone.

* * *

It was hard to pretend that he didn't crave a dæmon like everybody else.

It was hard to pretend that he didn't see all the stares people gave him, as if he was the scum of the earth.

It was hard to pretend that he wasn't lonely - seeing everyone with a dæmon was like a constant reminder that he would never have one.

It was hard to pretend that he wished for the sensation that everybody else felt upon touching, upon holding their own dæmons.

* * *

Something told d'Artagnan that maybe he and Milady de Winter were more alike than he thought. He laughed, because the thought was outrageous; _he_ , a respectable _musketeer_ , be like a _villain_ such as her?

Something told Milady de Winter that maybe she and d'Artagnan should be working together. She laughed, because dæmonless was not the same as severed; _she_ , a ruthless, vengeful _woman_ , work with an innocent _boy_ like him?

They shook it off and acted as if such a thought had never entered their heads.

 

 


End file.
